


Convince Me

by MotherRameses



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/F, I saw these two and IMMEDIATELY shipped them, I'm filling in the blanks how I see fit, Kissing, Mandalorian Spoilers, War Stories, god I love these women so much and I just met them today
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:22:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21614515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherRameses/pseuds/MotherRameses
Summary: Omera was already walking her usual path to the barn, spotchka and snacks in hand when she stopped short, realizing with an uncomfortable jolt that tonight was different.The Mandalorian and the Child were gone.
Relationships: Cara Dune/Omera
Comments: 16
Kudos: 169





	Convince Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TessAlyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TessAlyn/gifts).



> God I love them. So much. 
> 
> Also, when Omera was the only person to raise her hand when the Mandalorian asked who knew how to shoot, my brain went into overdrive. So. Yup. 
> 
> Enjoy!!

Omera was already walking her usual path to the barn, spotchka and snacks in hand when she stopped short, realizing with an uncomfortable jolt that tonight was different. 

The Mandalorian and the Child were gone. 

She looked down at the tray in her hands and sighed. One of the three mugs, and one plate of carefully ground krill would go to waste tonight. The Child always kept odd hours, waking in what amounted to the middle of the night for a growing boy, and she had taken to holding the little thing in her lap and giving him little pieces of the krill while she chatted with the Mandalorian and Cara. She would sip her spotchka and rock the Child to sleep, then tuck him in again and wile away the next few hours with her two odd companions before retiring to her own home.

As she started forward again, she wondered if it would be odd to visit Cara as though nothing had changed. She decided it didn’t matter. Cara always spoke her mind, and if she didn’t want company, she would say so. 

“Knock knock,” Omera said as she approached the barn door, her usual cheerful greeting. Silence met her words, and for a moment, Omera wondered if Cara had already gone to sleep. She didn’t think the veteran would simply ignore her if she wanted to be alone. 

She needn’t have worried, though. “Just a second!” Cara called back from the darkness of the barn, and Omera heard the sound of shuffling, a soft curse, and then a light flickered on.

“Alright, come on in,” Cara said after a moment, and Omera pushed aside the soft curtain that served for a door. 

“I didn’t think you’d come by tonight,” Cara said, and Omera found herself blushing a bit. The woman was standing by her makeshift bunk, facing away from the door and hastily dragging a shirt over her head. Omera could see her finely muscled back was decorated with scars all the way down to her trim waist, and she hastily turned away to set her tray down on the low table near the door. “I figured with Mando gone, you’d go back to… Whatever you used to do. So I had already bunked down.” She turned and shot a wry wink at Omera. “With the men-folk out of the house, I went back to sleeping in the buff. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“It’s fine,” Omera said hastily, awkwardly standing by the table. She nodded at her tray. “I… I had already put it together before I remembered they’d left. I understand if you just want to get to sleep.”

“You know I don’t sleep much.” Cara smiled and crossed to the low table, lowering herself to sit cross-legged on the floor. “And I like talking with you.”

Omera smiled back, relieved Cara wanted her company. “I like talking with you too.” She sat down and tucked her long tunic over her toes against the chilly night air. “I don’t see how you can sleep naked without freezing to death.”

Cara laughed over her mug of spotchka. “When you spend weeks training on Hoth, every other world feels like Tatooine.”

“I guess that’s true,” Omera said with a chuckle, picking up her own mug. “So what are your plans, then? Are you going to stay?”

Cara eyed her over the rim of her mug. “Do you want me to?” She asked mildly.

“Of course!” Omera said, almost a little too quickly. She took a sip of her drink, giving herself time to reply. “It’s just…” She sighed, and brushed her long hair out of her face. “I love it here. It’s a peaceful life, even with the issues with the raiders. But it can get a little boring, too.” She spoke carefully. She hadn’t told the mercenaries how she had lost her wife, or how she had come by her daughter. She hadn’t even told them why she knew how to shoot. But the pair had always seemed able to read her tone, sensed the pain behind her blithe cover stories, and had never asked. Hells, she hadn’t even told them she’d once had a wife, and not a husband. Everyone just assumed she had been widowed, and left it there. For all the gossip that came with living in a tiny community, the krill farmers were a polite people. They didn’t pry. It was part of the reason she liked it here.

Cara nodded slowly, watching her with bright eyes. “You like speaking with people who’ve been more than just farmers.” She said, and Omera didn’t miss the knowing lilt in her voice.

“I do.” Omera said simply. 

Cara nodded again, and didn’t speak. They sat there for a while, enjoying the silence and each other's company, and Omera had the feeling Cara was lost in thought. The ex-solider had a certain gravitas to her, a sense of watchfulness and planning that was always present, even when she was relaxed. Omera knew that mindset, and had chased a life where she didn’t need it anymore. She had finally found it here, and wondered if she could convince Cara that such a life was worth it. 

But as she watched the veteran now, Omera knew she couldn’t. The tension in her shoulders, the way she tapped her finger against her mug, the way her eyes flicked to every soft sound from beyond the barn. Even when Cara was relaxed, she wasn’t. It was in her nature to be watchful, wary. She wasn’t the type to simply stop and settle. 

Cara’s next words didn’t surprise Omera. “I’m planning to stay here for a few more weeks; lie low in case anyone else is watching for interesting folks to leave,” she said casually, again eyeing Omera over her mug. “Then I’ll head back to town and catch a freighter and find a new place to lie low. Find some jobs for drinking money. Maybe get my hair done.” She made a face as she ran a hand through her tousled hair. “It’s driving me nuts, getting so long.”

“Want me to braid it? It’ll keep it out of the way until you leave.” Omera offered lightly. An acknowledgement that Cara would move on, but that she would still be valued while she was here. 

Cara smiled wryly at her. “You know a braid that’ll keep for a few weeks?” She asked, and Omera laughed. 

“Not for your hair type, no. But I don’t mind redoing it, if you want me to. Or I can just teach you.”

“Others have tried, and failed. I never got good at anything past what you’ve seen me do with the side.” Cara laughed. “My talents lie elsewhere.”

“It’s good you have me, then.” Omera said with a grin, and she set her mug down and shuffled around to Cara’s side of the table. “I’ll trade you a braid for a war story.”

“Seems fair to me.” Cara said, leaning back as Omera settled behind her. Omera wiped her hands on her tunic, but paused before she brought them to Cara’s unruly hair. 

“Something wrong?” Cara asked, sensing Omera’s hesitation.

“No,” Omera said slowly, bringing her hands up and gently running her fingers through Cara’s hair, working out the tangles she found. “With Winta’s sensory quirks, she doesn’t like me fussing with her hair. I haven’t braided someone else’s hair since my wife passed.”

“Oh.” Cara said softly. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to—”

“It’s fine,” Omera said firmly, cutting her off. “I came here to move on. And no offense, but your hair is a little wild.”

Cara laughed, perhaps a bit too loudly. “It fits me, then.”

Omera smiled. “I’ll try not to alter your look too much. Now I believe you agreed to tell me a story or two?”

“Or _two_?” Cara asked, mock-outraged. “I’ll run out of stories at that rate, you hard-bargainer.”

Omera snorted. “I doubt that; you aren’t the first war vet I’ve met. But if push comes to shove, maybe I’ll share a story of my own from time to time.”

“Two stories it is, then.” Cara said, and she launched into a tale about chasing an Imperial warlord across the galaxy, finally giving up when they cornered the vengeful woman on Rattatak and came to a stalemate. Omera found herself relaxing as she listened to Cara reminisce, fingers finding a familiar rhythm as she remembered how to braid. Cara started her second story before she finished the intricate braid, and began another about a failed search for a long-missing Imperial commander who had mysteriously vanished from the 7th fleet years before the war’s end. 

Omera finished the braid halfway through that story, and had absently begun to work her fingers into the stiff muscles of Cara’s neck and shoulders as she listened, enthralled by the tale. She could feel the woman tense and relax under her hands as she spoke, back straightening as she recounted following exciting leads on Lothal out to the edge of known space and relaxing again when she spoke of the camaraderie of her unit. 

Omera stilled her hands as Cara finished her tale, and she was surprised to find the woman leaning into her touch as she made to pull away.

“Don’t stop,” Cara muttered, and Omera hesitantly set to work again, snaking her fingers under the other woman’s collar to reach her shoulders. Her skin was warm despite the evening chill, and soft beneath her fingers despite the scars she found. “Feels good.”

“You have a lot of tension,” Omera replied, finding a knot and gently digging into it.

“Comes from a hard-lived life,” Cara said, sighing contentedly. “You probably do too.”

Omera shrugged, forgetting Cara couldn’t see her. “Less, since I’ve been here.”

Cara simply nodded, but didn’t reply as Omera kept up her work. After a few comfortable minutes, she gave another sigh and leaned away from her hands, glancing at Omera over her shoulder. “Want me to return the favor?”

Omera cocked her head, folding her hands in her lap. She studied the woman in front of her, tracing her strong jaw and sharp eyes and tan skin, and she shuffled to the side as she raised her hand and tucked a stray strand of Cara’s hair back into the braid. 

“There’s something else I’d like to do,” she said softly, and she pointedly glanced down to Cara’s lips, then back to her eyes. “If you’d like.”

Cara’s eyes widened, just a fraction, then she grinned. “And here I thought you had a crush on Mando,” she said with a chuckle, and she leaned forward, cutting off Omera’s offended gasp with a kiss. 

Omera grinned into the kiss, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around the strong woman and pulling her close. Cara kissed like she fought, hard and fast and hot, and Omera found herself lost in the sensations of it as she let the woman pull her to her feet. She gasped in surprise as Cara lifted her off the ground, strong arms wrapping around her waist and under her behind as she swept her off her feet and carried her to the bed. 

“Too fast?” Cara asked as she deposited her on the bunk, breathless and tumbling on top of her and mouthing at her neck. 

“For you? This is just what I hoped for,” Omera said, pulling Cara to her for another hungry kiss and sneaking a hand underneath her shirt. 

“Oh, so you were planning this, huh?” Cara said, breaking the kiss and grinning down at her. “Hoping to convince me to stay?”

“I don’t think I can do that,” Omera said, smiling up at the woman and running her hands over her warm skin. “But I think I can at least give you some second thoughts.”

Cara grinned. “You’re probably right,” she said, dipping back down to mouth at Omera’s neck. “But I’m certainly glad you’re willing to try anyway.”


End file.
